


Our Secret Song

by orphan_account



Series: walmart's hoard of imagines [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Barista AU, Cafe AU, Fluff, JiHan, M/M, its honestly crappy but my friend convinced me to post it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 15:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Joshua's tired of his job, tired of expectations. He wants to be able to write whatever he likes; to dream whatever he wants. Maybe that kid at the coffee shop will be able to help him get the confidence to do so.





	Our Secret Song

**Author's Note:**

> this was initially supposed to be my school project-- a story on overlooking homophobia and gross standards of masculinity. it's also based on tae's song that was supposed to be sung with jimin but instead was sung with adora, so he cancelled. my friend liked it, so this is mostly me posting it for her.

Today I wrote a song about how I felt. There was no one else in the world with whom I trusted it to, aside from myself.

You see, my job is to write songs. Quite a handful people enjoyed my music since debut, but I never boasted. I was humble with what I got, and I appreciate everyone who supported me through my endeavors. I taught myself multiple times over to never open up to other people about what I do for the side money, because no one probably cared.

What I mainly do is videography and editing. You know, men's work. I have the cubicle, I have the suit. I, however, don't have the heart; and I don't have the courage to say anything about it, either. I just keep it boxed in-- in a small closet-room of my house, with a small computer and headphones.

Like my studio, I kept my dreams small. When I opened up to my dad about my aspirations, he laughed. "My son, wanting to pursue music?" He chortled. That was the last time I did anything similar to that confrontation. His dearest Joshua should stop thinking of such things like that.

When I step out of the corporate building, I have my laptop in my bag and my journal in-hand. I step into a coffee shop and, as soon as my eyes leave the lyrics, I'm met with the barista. The counter has been vacant for a while, but I was too distracted to notice. I wondered why he didn't bother to tell me about it, though.

"Hey, just surprise me, 'han."

The barista here and I are well-acquainted with one another. We never held a proper conversation, but that left room for respect; no hurt feelings whenever we don't see each other for a while. I've always wanted to be closer though, and I could tell he probably wanted that too. I loved his presence and his aura. He had long-ish hair--at least, for the world's standard of men's hair--which gave him a bit of a femme touch. He also had this soft, therapeutic smile that healed whoever saw it. I would love to be around that kind of person for as much moments of my life as possible. I felt drifty today, though. So that'd have to wait for another day, if ever.

"Here, that piece looks like it's going great, by the way. I love that line," He said, staring down at my open notes, reading it upside down. He seemed to have developed a talent for that ever since I came by here with my journal. He would sneak glances at my book and ever since, he's memorized my penmanship so vividly that reading it upside-down is a breeze. He's a master of foxery.

"Oh, well-- no," I stuttered. "No?" He asked, laughing at my demeanor. I laughed as well; nervously, though, and I closed the book. That was the song. "I mean," I thought about it, and I might as well, right?

 

"You want to see it? Properly, I mean," The other man looked around the cafe and noticed it was deep into the slow hours. Wordlessly, he nodded and stepped out of the counter. "I'm trusting you with this," I said, taking the frothy drink into the embrace of my hand. We sat down together in a two-seat booth and, for the first time, I let him read the journal right-side up.

"It's so pretty," He awed, smiling at the prose. "Hard for me to say this, but from the impression I get from our small encounters-- It's so...you." I smiled in response, flattered and flustered. That's the first time I've ever opened up about my music and gotten a positive response. 

"Do you want to sing it?"

He looked at me confusedly. "Me?"

"I hear you when you make coffee. I don't know if you know, but you kind of sing when you're busy," I laugh. "I thought about it a lot and...the tune I thought of would sound a whole lot better on you."

"I'd love to, Joshua."

 

\--

 

"A song like that is nothing for people like you to dream of." The man with a big expensive coat said. It was mildly intimidating since I was there in only my sweats and hoodie. The status difference was clear. The David and the Goliath. The Joshua and The Great Wall. It's always been like that. Men can't dream like that. Not in this company. Not in this society. The whole sense gave me deja vu from my dad, but maybe I could be stronger this time.

"It's that or nothing. I designed this song to be that way. You can't just tell me that it's not for me to decide." I could tell that he was getting annoyed with this conversation as it dragged on. I was really pushing it with this one, but it meant too much to me.

"As your manager, it really isn't for you to decide. You've only recently debuted, Joshua. We can't have you crashing down as soon as you start. I won't allow this song to happen unless your second vocalist is a female, or you sing it alone. What little fans you have could speculate some...things about you. I'm doing it for you."

"Is it for my reputation, or yours-- I really start to wonder." I hissed venomously to myself, imagining he were in front of me while I walk out.

I told coffee boy Jeonghan about what happened. He was fuming so badly at the news that he 'Find My Friends'ed my phone and found where I was. It was scary, to say it in the least, but I knew the clever boy had good intention.

"Let's record it anyway." He suggested.

"I'm not allowed to."

Jeonghan ignored my reply and stalked around my house until he found my guitar.

"If fear is pulling you down, push on. Usually it's because they're afraid of the power you don't know you have." He encouraged, a fire of encouragement alighting his voice.

"Trust me, it'll make the world new. But only if you try." He puts the guitar in front of my sitting figure. "Now play. I saw the chords, you own this guitar, so I know you can."

I hesitantly grabbed the neck of the instrument and began to play the intro; singing a bit of the verses and getting more confident as time goes by. The boy who I've bonded with over my newfound addiction of coffee-- my newfound addiction of his presence, began to take notice of the song's flow and began to sing along. I added some adlibs for every other verse as Jeonghan took over the main vocal, and with that, I learned confidence.

With that, I learned that it's okay to be open; better, even. That I'm fine the way I am.

After all, David beats Goliath, and Joshua shatters The Great Wall in the end, don't they?


End file.
